do. My subletter doesn’t move out for
another two months.”
“You can stay here as long as you need.”
He looked at her. “Thank you,” he said softly.
She reached out and ruffled his hair, ignoring his
flinch. “I’ll try to knock some sense into you while you’re
here.”
Aiden tried to smile. “I don’t need your version of
sense.”
“Hey. Be nice to me, or we three witches will put a
curse on you.”
She left him to rest.
* * * *
Living with the three women worked about as well
as Aiden had known it would. The house was crowded;
he always felt in the way. Kim, Sloane, and Hera tried to
include him in things like cooking dinner and watching
movies, but he knew the house felt as claustrophobic to
them as it did to him. Friendly bickering had always
provided a foundation for Aiden’s and Hera’s friendship,
but now they argued constantly.
He knew he needed to make other living
arrangements, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it. The
idea of living alone terrified him. Being alone meant
being alone with memories of Scott. He wasn’t sure how
keen he was on living with strangers, but it might be
better than this. Strangers, at least, wouldn’t badger him
to eat or tell him he should consider counseling.
He’d had an excuse to avoid food the first few days
—the damage to his rectum made going to the bathroom
painful, and it had been easy to refuse meals. But now
Hera wanted him to eat three meals a day. Not going to
happen. He was already panicked over what the missed
gym time was doing to his body. No way was he going
to lie around here getting fat. Even the idea of food made
him sick.
He could sometimes eat meals Kim prepared. Her
vegan cooking wasn’t too heavy or greasy, and it tasted
good. He liked the evenings when Hera and Sloane both
worked and he could help Kim cook. They’d eat in
silence or watch a movie, and Aiden would forget about
Scott for a while.
He tried to go out in the evenings. His plan was
always to go to bars and meet guys he could spend the
night with so that Hera and her fiancées could have some
privacy. But he never made it to the bars. Something in
him balked at the idea of spending the night at a
stranger’s—at having sex. He spent a lot of time at the
library or the coffee shop, trying to muster up the
concentration to read a book, or else staring in frozen
terror at his grad school applications.
Auditions for the next community theater
production had come and gone. He’d received a couple
of texts from his Twelfth Night cast mates, reminding him
to audition, but he’d never answered. He didn’t answer
Scott’s calls, either. Please leave me alone , he begged
silently whenever his phone buzzed and Scott’s number
appeared.
One evening he was walking downtown when he
passed a two-story house with light blue siding and a
ROOM FOR RENT sign out front. He knocked on the
door and was given a grand tour by a short, heavy
woman in a tank top and pajama pants. The house
seemed to harbor far more people than there were
rooms. The kitchen was messy and full of tarnished
coffee cans that served as communal ashtrays. Still, the
room was only three hundred a month, and living here
would get him out of Hera’s way until he could reclaim
his old apartment. He told the woman he’d think it over
and call her tomorrow.
Hera was outraged when he told her. “No way are
you going to live in some slimy, overcrowded boarding
house when you have a perfectly good couch right here.”
“You know you don’t want me here,” Aiden
protested. “I’m in the way, I’m not paying rent, and I
know I’m not much fun to be around these days… ”
“You’re perfectly fun. I love having you here.
You’re pissy a lot, but who wouldn’t be after an
experience like yours. Just relax.”
Aiden tried, but it was hard. Especially once Sloane
let it slip that he was keeping her up at night.
He and Sloane were arguing
another two months.”
“You can stay here as long as you need.”
He looked at her. “Thank you,” he said softly.
She reached out and ruffled his hair, ignoring his
flinch. “I’ll try to knock some sense into you while you’re
here.”
Aiden tried to smile. “I don’t need your version of
sense.”
“Hey. Be nice to me, or we three witches will put a
curse on you.”
She left him to rest.
* * * *
Living with the three women worked about as well
as Aiden had known it would. The house was crowded;
he always felt in the way. Kim, Sloane, and Hera tried to
include him in things like cooking dinner and watching
movies, but he knew the house felt as claustrophobic to
them as it did to him. Friendly bickering had always
provided a foundation for Aiden’s and Hera’s friendship,
but now they argued constantly.
He knew he needed to make other living
arrangements, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it. The
idea of living alone terrified him. Being alone meant
being alone with memories of Scott. He wasn’t sure how
keen he was on living with strangers, but it might be
better than this. Strangers, at least, wouldn’t badger him
to eat or tell him he should consider counseling.
He’d had an excuse to avoid food the first few days
—the damage to his rectum made going to the bathroom
painful, and it had been easy to refuse meals. But now
Hera wanted him to eat three meals a day. Not going to
happen. He was already panicked over what the missed
gym time was doing to his body. No way was he going
to lie around here getting fat. Even the idea of food made
him sick.
He could sometimes eat meals Kim prepared. Her
vegan cooking wasn’t too heavy or greasy, and it tasted
good. He liked the evenings when Hera and Sloane both
worked and he could help Kim cook. They’d eat in
silence or watch a movie, and Aiden would forget about
Scott for a while.
He tried to go out in the evenings. His plan was
always to go to bars and meet guys he could spend the
night with so that Hera and her fiancées could have some
privacy. But he never made it to the bars. Something in
him balked at the idea of spending the night at a
stranger’s—at having sex. He spent a lot of time at the
library or the coffee shop, trying to muster up the
concentration to read a book, or else staring in frozen
terror at his grad school applications.
Auditions for the next community theater
production had come and gone. He’d received a couple
of texts from his Twelfth Night cast mates, reminding him
to audition, but he’d never answered. He didn’t answer
Scott’s calls, either. Please leave me alone , he begged
silently whenever his phone buzzed and Scott’s number
appeared.
One evening he was walking downtown when he
passed a two-story house with light blue siding and a
ROOM FOR RENT sign out front. He knocked on the
door and was given a grand tour by a short, heavy
woman in a tank top and pajama pants. The house
seemed to harbor far more people than there were
rooms. The kitchen was messy and full of tarnished
coffee cans that served as communal ashtrays. Still, the
room was only three hundred a month, and living here
would get him out of Hera’s way until he could reclaim
his old apartment. He told the woman he’d think it over
and call her tomorrow.
Hera was outraged when he told her. “No way are
you going to live in some slimy, overcrowded boarding
house when you have a perfectly good couch right here.”
“You know you don’t want me here,” Aiden
protested. “I’m in the way, I’m not paying rent, and I
know I’m not much fun to be around these days… ”
“You’re perfectly fun. I love having you here.
You’re pissy a lot, but who wouldn’t be after an
experience like yours. Just relax.”
Aiden tried, but it was hard. Especially once Sloane
let it slip that he was keeping her up at night.
He and Sloane were arguing
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